


Martin Cobblepot

by daggersandribbons



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Chubwald, Declarations Of Love, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Endgame Ed Nygma, Endgame Oswald Cobblepot, Family Reunions, Happy Murder Family, M/M, Nygmobblepot, Oral Sex, Origin Story, The Riddler - Freeform, Underage Drinking, Violence, Visions in dreams, locked away, s4/endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggersandribbons/pseuds/daggersandribbons
Summary: Martin is a special boy. When he gets sent away from his new family, you can bet your buttons he’ll be back with hell to pay.





	Martin Cobblepot

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspiration for this after a conversation with my dear pal over the post comparing Martins drawing to 5x11. Hope you enjoy!

Since Oswald met Martin, he knew he was no ordinary child. Better than the rest, the child was special. The man just didn’t know how special. After the adoption papers were signed, Martins talent came to light. 

The boy frantically tried to show his new father a drawing of a red headed man in a hoodie. Oswald didn’t take any stock in it until he learned a warehouse of his got robbed by a man under that description. It turns out that young Martin Cobblepot could see future events. There was no rhyme or reason as to what caused it, and it seemed to happen at random times. After Oswald knew, it was divulged to Ed shortly after. 

But something dark was brewing in Gotham, the beginning of the end. Though Oswald and Ed were at odds, young Martin kept them in contact at least. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that Oswald’s using him as a bargaining chip?” Lee asked. Though Ed was diving into his journey to be the best criminal he could be, he still wanted Martin to have some semblance of a normal life. So when Martin came to visit, he came to whoever would offer up their home for a few hours, this time it was Lee’s.

“I would have to care about Oswald for that to work. It was Martins idea to keep in contact with me and honestly I’m flattered.” Ed replied as he took a pizza out of the oven. He did care about Oswald, he cared a lot. As angry as the man made him, deep down he still liked him. Maybe he even loved him. 

Martin entered Lee’s house, shaking her hand when he entered. After lunch, Ed sat with Martin on the couch.

_I saw something about you_

Ed was one of the few people who knew about Martin’s ability that didn’t shun him for it. The older male was interested, maybe he’d finally get a shove in whatever direction he needed to go. Martin flipped back in his notepad, landing on a drawing of stick figure Oswald and stick figure Ed kissing with red hearts around them. 

“Is this a joke?” He asked. The boy shook his head no. Usually the things he saw were up for interpretation, but there was no other way to spin that. Rather than discuss that, Ed looked for another topic. He noticed the page before that one was heavily colored, so he asked to see that page. Martin reluctantly took the notepad from around his neck and handed it over. 

Fire. Destruction. Fear. The drawings on those pages told the story of what was to come, a Gotham in flames. 

“What does this mean?” Ed whispered. But the conversation was cut short when Lee called for Ed. From then until the end of Martin’s visit, the two didn’t get a moment alone but before the boy left he slipped Ed the drawing of himself and Oswald. 

That night the slip of paper in his pocket weighed heavily on his mind. He swirled the ice in his glass, taking the drawing out to examine it. It was a fifty fifty chance that it was merely imagination, after all Martin was a young boy. However, what if that and the end of Gotham were real? If that were true, then Ed needed to speak to Oswald immediately.

With haste, Ed made his way to the Cobblepot residence. Oswald was preparing himself a night cap when Ed burst in. 

“What on Earth are you doing?!” He exclaimed. Ed stumbled and held his finger out as he paused to catch his breath. 

“Have you seen it?” He asked. 

“Have I seen what? Your brain? Because no, I haven’t seen it in awhile. Haven’t seen your balls either.” Oswald snidely replied. Ignoring that dig, Ed pushed on. 

“The drawing. The one Martin m-“

“Ohh, so that’s what this visit is about. You’ve come to argue with me about a child’s drawing?”

“I didn’t come to argue.”

“Yet you always end up doing just that.”

“Oswald-“

“No, I am very upset with you and I’m going to te-“

“Oswald I love you.”

The shorter male fell silent. 

“That’s not funny.” He murmured and went to turn away, but Ed grabbed his wrist. 

“Please listen to me. If you would’ve asked me this morning if I thought I was in love, I would’ve said no.” Ed began and Oswald rolled his eyes. “But Martin showed me something and it made me think. When we first met, I was in awe of you. Then during your mayorship, I had feelings of infatuation but I shoved them down. I thought Isabella was a clear sign that I shouldn’t love you, but when you killed her I was angry at first but then I was relieved. Hell, I was a little flattered. The two sides of me were at war, but now I’m at peace. I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner.”

Oswald stood as still as the grave, his only response to Ed’s monologue being the tears rolling down his face. Ed stayed silent, he wanted to make him answer but the last time he forced someone he loved to do something he lost her forever. Oswald didn’t know how to respond, as much as he wanted Ed to love him, the idea of someone being in love with him seemed far fetched. So he decided to test the waters. 

“Kiss me.” Surely if Ed was lying, he wouldn’t do it. A hug, sure. But a kiss was intimate. Oswald had only kissed one person in his life and it was awkward but the best experience of his high school career. Ed seized Oswald by the lapels of his pajama top. He’d never kissed a male before, but turns out that it was very similar to kissing a woman. As the kiss was deepened, Oswald let his instinct take over as he locked his fingers in Ed’s hair and pressed against him. It was only when Oswald let out a soft sigh that Ed pulled away, 

“I-I...sorry.” Oswald squeaked. 

“Don’t be, you’re a really good kisser.” Ed chuckled. He noticed Oswald’s eyes on his package. It was a part of his Fish days, while she would seduce he couldn’t help but eye the mens downstairs area to gauge whether they were interested. He didn’t mean anything by it, it was just an old habit. Then the fear set in, what if he couldn’t please Ed?

“Os...we don’t have to do anything like that tonight. I-I know that you’ve never dated before and that’s fine. I don’t know what we are now, but I do know that we will take this at whatever pace you feel comfortable.” Ed assured. 

From then the two were a couple in private, and their normal criminal selves. Not only was Martin correct about their relationship, he was right about other things. 

Ed and Oswald sat at the dining room table. It was Oswald’s favorite breakfast but he’d barely touched it. Word had been spreading on the streets that bad things were coming to Gotham, far worse than the usual. 

“Os, you need to eat.” Ed murmured. 

“I need a drink.” Oswald replied sharply. He was nervous. 

“It’s six in the morning, I’m not making you a drink.” He paused. “Listen, if the rumors are true then we’re doing the right thing.” 

“What if we’re sending him somewhere horrible? He’ll never forgive us.” Oswald asked. Ed placed his hand over his partners.

“It will be okay, plus it’s just until things blow over. A month tops.” 

But it wasn’t so. What was meant to be a short stay at a safe house turned out to be a bit longer than expected. After the Gotham bridge blew and the proceedings that happened after, all seemed calm for a moment. It felt like a breath later, Oswald was hauled off to Blackgate while Ed was carted back to Arkham. 

Martin Cobblepot was none the wiser as he spent his days at Lilac Estate. It was advertised as a safe haven that would treat your child with the utmost respect, and for a time that was true. The moment that quality of care ended just happened to coincide when Martin saw Oswald being hauled off to Blackgate. He had taken his notepad off to bathe and hadn’t put it back on, so he wordlessly attempted to beg the caretaker to let him leave. Prior to him leaving, Oswald and himself were taking ASL classes since Martin had created his own but never learned the proper one.

They locked him in a room no bigger than a shed. He needed a way to convey his message. So when the caregiver came to ask him if he learned his lesson, Martin took a shard of glass he’d been hiding since he arrived. Under the ribs, into the heart. Just as Oswald taught him. He used the blood to write LET ME GO but only got to LET before he was taken down by a man he’d never seen. 

Martin was thrown into the basement of the building and kept there for six months, pressing his ear to the door to hear passing conversations. The next time someone entered the room, he feigned a smile and did what he was told. 

It was only fate that Martin subconsciously took on Oswald’s style mannerisms, yet he kept his hair like Ed’s. He really hoped that his father and his “dear friend” were okay. His only look into Gotham was in his dreams, and he knew those had to be visions of the truth...because his other dreams were too dark and too convenient. The dreams about Gotham made no sense, and were rarely about his father. Eventually the dreams just kind of faded. 

A week shy of the ten year mark from when he was made to leave, Martin rode into Gotham’s city limits in his black 1947 Rolls Royce Wraith. Gotham had boomed in ten years, but the streets mostly stayed the same. With everything different, he knew one person would be in the same place. 

It was all about acting. If you act important, people were bound to think you were. Jim and Martin locked eyes across the GCPD. The style of the young man brought memories to Jim’s mind of earlier (and albeit simpler) times. Martin made his way over to the mustached man and whipped out his notepad. 

_Where is Oswald Cobblepot? Or Edward Nygma?_

“Haven’t heard those names in awhile, why you looking for them?” Jim asked.

_My name is Martin Cobblepot._

Jim’s eyes widened, and he whisked the young man into his office. 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” He questioned. Martin removed his bowler hat and took the photograph he had hidden in it. It was of him and Oswald, posing in front of the manor. 

“Oswald was distraught when you had to leave. He didn’t plan on being arrested. You should’ve heard him when they handcuffed him, he was screaming at Ed to find you. But he got hauled off just as quickly. Then the manor got looted and any idea of where you went was lost. I have a sneaking suspicion that you’re not here on the side on the side of good, am I correct?” 

_I want him out of Blackgate_

“He’s been out for a few weeks-“ That was all Martin needed to hear. He spent the afternoon into the evening exploring the city that he never got the chance to as a child. While he took his stroll, Martin noticed a limo surrounded by people and their camera. 

“Mr. Penguin! Mr. Penguin! Now that you’re a free man, what are your plans?” A man called out. Oswald chuckled. 

“If I went around telling every curious person my plans, I’d be one sorry excuse for a criminal. However, I will tell you I plan on getting a late lunch. I’m famished.” The man replied, patting his tummy before getting into the limo. Martin followed on foot, trying to stay out of sight.

“Uh sir, we have someone following us on foot. I noticed about a mile back and he doesn’t appear to be stopping.” The limo driver informed. Oswald waved his hand, the limo pulled over, and he got out. 

“Can I help you with something kid? Although you are impeccably dressed, I don’t appreciate stalking.” He scolded. 

Martin wanted to cry. He had missed ten years with the only person who ever cared about him. With tears brimming, he signed the word “dad” with the sign language Oswald and him made. The eye not under an eye patch widened as Oswald suddenly saw the young man in a new light. No longer was he just some skinny punk, he was his son all grown up. 

“My God, Martin you’re home. We have so, so much to catch up on! Look at you, you’re an adult now. Let’s have a drink, you’re close enough to the legal age.” Oswald beamed before getting back in the limo, Martin following him. 

“I’m sure it’s confusing to see the new me. With my eye and-“ he motioned to his round belly. “-my size, but I’m comfortable like this. I think this is who I’m meant to be.” The older man poured whiskey into two glasses. Martin sipped the amber liquid, it burnt as it went down but it wasn’t awful. 

“That’s my boy, can handle his liquor like a champ.” Oswald giggled. Two whiskeys with no chaser and a vodka soda made little no alcohol tolerance Martin pretty drunk. 

It was hard to lead a drunk, stumbling teen into a building when you already had a leg injury. 

“Martin Cobblepot listen to- don’t sign interrupt me! _Ugh_ you were so much better at listening as a child.” He complained, but he’d rather deal with the drunk young man than Martin not be there at all. His son was finally back in his world, the rightful heir to the Penguin legacy. 

Night fell and casa de Cobblepot had another visitor. A certain green suited man. Oswald was in the bathroom, fresh out of a bath. The Riddler wrapped his arms around the round naked male. 

“Is this the surprise you promise? Because while it is enticing, you naked isn’t exactly a surprise. The night I got sprung from Arkham you were naked within five minutes of us reuniting, and that perfectly round ass was on my face in ten.” He chuckled darkly. 

“I had to make up for ten years without you, and I will continue to do so. But no I have something better.” Oswald put his robe on and took the other mans hand, leading him to the couch where Martin was sleeping off the liquor. 

“It’s him Eddie, he’s home and all grown up. We missed ten years of his life, so many formative years. First crush, driving lessons, high school graduation. But he’s home now!” He whispered. The cocky Riddler persona faded and the man was someone he hadn’t been in awhile, the paternal Ed. 

“He still has his curls, and what a nice suit. Of course I’m partial to green, but maybe we can find him his own signature color.” Ed gushed. Together they stood, watching Martin sleep like they used to. 

“I’m feeling nostalgic, how about you meet me in the bedroom for some Pinot noir and other French things.” He chuckled. 

“Fais moi l’amour mon petit ami.” Oswald murmured before waddling off to the bedroom. 

When Ed entered the room, Oswald was already naked. 

“Don’t think Martin coming home means I forgot how cocky you’ve been. You need to be knocked down a peg, remember who you are. So get on your knees and show me who you’re loyal to.” 

Ed grinned and obliged. Oswald leaned again the bed frame as Ed sat on his knees in front of him. Both of them missed the littlest things about one another when they were locked up. The soft sighs from Oswald’s lips as Ed sucked him off, the way Ed’s glasses would nearly slip off his nose as he bobbed his head. 

Oswald took no hesitation in bucking his hips and face fucking the riddle man. Making up for lost time and what not. He could barely contain whispering profanities, chanting _Eddie_ and _fuck_ , even the occasional _Riddler_. Ed had missed seeing Oswald’s telltale signs that he was close. His eyes screwed shut, and his movements became more sporadic. 

“I love you!” He mewled as he released into Ed’s mouth. The taller male swallowed it down in one gulp. Oswald ran his fingers through his partners hair as he came back to Earth. 

The night fell and the morning rose, the Cobblepot-Nygma family was under one roof once again. Ed rose early, he couldn’t be seen leaving Oswald’s place. He kissed Oswald on the forehead before putting his shoes on and heading to the front door. Walking past the living room, the familiar scent of blood filled his nostrils. He turned on his heel to find Martin curled up on the couch...and the drifter with a fire poker through his skull on the floor. 

“Oh dear,”

**Author's Note:**

> I take fic requests on  
> tumblr: girlwiththetechnicolorheart   
> instagram: cobblehottie


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